Figuring Out The Mechanics
by Threaded Needles
Summary: Jaime and Cassie move in together. But not for the reasons people think. Lotsa thanks to Cannibals Welcome for co-authoring. Jaime/Cassie.
1. Chapter 1

Cassie is staring out the window, taking deep breaths and trying not to panic, when her mother takes a hand off the wheel to squeeze her shoulder. Helena is going seventy miles an hour down a busy highway, and Cassie briefly entertains the thought that dying would take away the anxiety.

"Now, remember, I don't mind you having sex now that you're moving in with your boyfriend, but use protection."

Oh God. Cassie had been so busy worrying about the move that she'd forgotten the talk she'd been dreading since first telling her mother about the decision.

"I don't want to be one of those young grandmothers, mind you."

Cassie laughed a little. "No, you want to be the ancient type. We've gone over this."

And they had. At length. Since she got her first period. Just because she's starting college and moving in with her boyfriend doesn't mean she wants to strip naked and have sex on the kitchen counter. It doesn't mean she wants to have sex, period.

Of course, try telling that to the fifty-four year old woman who all but shoved a birth control pill down her daughter's throat – shortly before not-so-discretely stuffing a package of condoms into a box of her favorite books, along with the little tinfoil package of pills.

Cassie is convinced her mom needs to get a grip. Sex is probably the last thing on her mind (well, the first, but mostly on how not to have it). It scares her a little, honestly. Whenever he and Jaime get super close (like, past the hickeys and into serious groping) she freaked out. Because, like, what if it hurt or she hated it or it was awkward and afterwards they couldn't even look at each other? Maybe she'd be so horrible at it that Jaime would hate her afterwards.

But she can't tell her mom any of that, because for one it's almost too fucking embarassing to think about – for two, there is absolutely no reason to move in with a significant other than to make having sex more convenient.

So Cassie just sinks a little lower in her seat, scowl slipping onto her face while her mother repeats the safe sex talk for the seventh time in the past two hours. She can only hope that Jaime is cool with waiting till she's read – or at the least be as freaking jumpy as she is about it.

After her mom finishes explaining the condom rule for like the umpteenth time- "it's not your fault if it breaks, but always use one"- they finally arrive at the apartment division. Her skin is crawling and her whole body is twitching with nervous tension. She wants to go back home all the sudden, fall into her bed and curl up in front of her laptop and forget everything but reading funny webcomics.

Then they're somehow parked and she's struggling to breathe, trying to calm the little tremors shaking her skeleton apart.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Cassie's out of the car and surrounded by boxes and bags of her belongings, unable to figure out how that happened, because she wasn't ready. She throws her arms around her mom and gives her a kiss on the cheek, praying that her mother will take a stand, tell her that no she's too young to do this, she simply isn't allowed. But then her mom is in the car and waving goodbye as she backs out of the lot and how did this happen so fast.

Cassie was left standing there, the sidewalk around her covered with her things, and she couldn't remember any time she'd felt more alone.

Even though she'd already known this, it suddenly clicks in her head that the only people who are dating and move in with her are... having sex. Are moving in to have sex. Objectively she was aware of the fact, but it was a distant and cloudy worry. She's wishing that she'd stayed with her mom, refused to leave the car, demanded to go back home -

But she can't. Not now.

So she starts picking up boxes and slinging bags over her shoulder, heading for Jaime's door and knowing he left it open because he's working until six. There was only twenty minutes until he came back home but it was hardly a choice to snuggle into the warm comfort of her favorite blankets instead of sitting on the doorstep in the crisp air of mid-November.

His apartment – their apartment, she corrected herself – was fairly clean. He had a tendency to leave his books, papers, notebooks and empty coffee cups around, but that was easily straightened. The carpet was just vacuumed, there wasn't a speck of dust, and no stains – it was cleaner than her room, that was for sure.

Cassie dumped her stuff on the floor of the bedroom before collapsing under the covers and into the mattress. She debated sleep, which was hardly a debate since her eyes were already drifting closed and the world going soft and fuzzy.

When she opens her eyes, the alarm clock reads eight and she's rolling over to wipe drool from her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Hey, you're awake."

Cassie swings her head so quickly she cracks her neck, blushing because her boyfriend just watched her wipe spit off her face. He's propped up against the wall, long and lean and looking scruffy in the hottest way possible. There's a book in his hands, but she can't make out the title and finds she doesn't really care to.

"You could've woken me up." she grumbles half-heartedly.

"I prefer living, thanks. Remember when I tried last year, and you almost stabbed me with that knife you keep under your pillow?"

Yawning, she mumbled something almost incoherent but that sounded vaguely like 'you deserved it'.

"How do you like officially living together?" he asked, and the tone and question was light but she could see the thread of anxiety that made a little furrow between his eyebrows. Jaime took her hand – the one she'd wiped the drool off on, oh my God – and squeezed gently as he threaded their fingers together.

"Totally awesome," Cassie informed him, even though the two hours she's been living there was spent sleeping. But she'd say just about anything to get that little bit of worry out of his face and it must work because the lines in his face smooth out almost immediately.

"You hungry?" He asks, putting the book on the bedside table. She catches a glimpse of the cover as he does so - The Catcher and The Rye.

"Yeah," Cassie responds with a yawn. Now that she's (sort of) fully awake she can feel hunger clawing at the inside of her stomach. When was the last time she ate, anyways? "You wanna go get something and I'll unpack my stuff?"

"Sure." He kisses her forehead before exiting the room, and a moment later she hears the slam of the front door.

Once she's alone, she digs through her stuff in a desperate attempt to find the condoms before Jaime does. Birth control pills she can pass off as needing to regulate her period, but she needed to burn the latex- or something- to avoid a conversation with Jaime on how fucking pushy her mom is.

Once she finds them, she rips open the box and crushes it mercilessly before ripping it into pieces and hiding it in the pages of various books. She does the same thing with the condoms – without the crushing and ripping into pieces that is – and puts them in books she knows Jaime doesn't like. Apparently gay erotica isn't a popular seller among twenty something heterosexual males, who knew?

Calmed a little by the safety of her secret, Cassie began unpacking a black case filled with DVDs. It was a mixture of horror, Disney, sci-fi, comedy and every season of Doctor Who. She had the sudden and brilliant plan to watch a movie when Jaime got home. It would be their own personal theater- that they could eat Chinese in without sitting in uncomfortable and collapsing seats. She flipped through the DVDs, hoping to find something that was more mature than Finding Nemo, but less likely to make her geek out than Firefly and not as much of a cult hit as Pulp Fiction (which she had seen a billion times anyways).

Eventually she settled on an older Korean horror film because she could hear Jaime coming back in and mumbling about the cold. He really, really hated anything to do with the cold- which gave her an excuse to always cuddle up to him underneath layers of fleece blankets.

Dragging the blanket from the bed with her Cassie ventured back into the living room where Jaime was unpacking cartons of fried rice and sesame chicken. She set the blanket aside while trying to figure out the wiring system for his DVD player.

Once she figured put that you are only supposed to plug in the yellow and white wire and to attach the black one to the TV, she put in the movie and hopped a little with excitement as the screen loaded. Jaime tugged her towards the couch and they slipped under the blanket, shifting to find a comfortable position and making pseudo-angry remarks over cold feet.

About a quarter of the way through the movie and halfway through her sesame chicken, Cassie felt Jaime shift uncomfortably and lean further into her. At first she tried to ignore it and focus on the screen, but after a few minutes she noticed (with a surge of annoyance) that he wasn't even paying attention to the movie. He slid himself into her lap, blocking the screen just as someone was about to be killed in a wonderfully gory manner.

"What are you doing?" Cassie asked impatiently, craning her neck to watch the movie.

"You're beautiful." Jaime whispered, tucking a strand of blond hair behind Cassie's ear. All the blood in her body rushed to her head, so quickly that she got a little dizzy. She'd never get used to his stupid endearments and compliments, especially when she had bedhead and a zit by her hairline and rice stuck to her front tooth.

"Aren't you gonna watch the movie?" She asked, and entirely without her permission her hands slipped behind his neck so her fingers could play with his hair easily.

"Not a big horror fan," Jaime responded honestly, and Cassie straightened indignantly.

"You read Stephen King and Robert Bloch all the time!"

"Read," He mumbles. She groans, tugging at his hair so that he pulls his head farther than an inch from her's.

Instead of returning to his position he was previously in to watch the movie, Jaime only scooted closer to her until she couldn't lean any farther away and into the couch.

Jaime licked his lips, a quick dart of tongue, and suddenly there was no better idea in the world than to taste him. So Cassie did exactly that, leaning forward instead of back to trace the outline of his lips with a fingertip.

Jaime was so close that she could feel his heart rate accelerate, knew the exact instant that he dipped his head in to kiss her.

She opened her mouth eagerly, tongues curling around each other in a well practiced dance. It never got old, tracing right behind his front teeth with a barely there touch and ripping a helpless whimper from his throat. The kiss got harsher, more intense, less making out and more fucking each other's mouths with lips and tongue and teeth.

Jaime pulled away, and Cassie opened dazed and confused eyes with just enough time to see his pupils blown wide. He switched their positions so quickly that when Cassie was on his lap she couldn't exactly tell how she got there. Then it didn't matter because he was sucking a mark in the hollow between neck and shoulder and her hips rolled down instinctively.

She caught a harsh breath in her throat that ended in a moan when Jaime gripped her ass, hands firm and strong and oh so good. He shifted a bit under her, and then all she could do was hold onto his shoulders and gasp while he rocked up into her a firm pressure that dragged with an agonizing mix of too-much-not-enough.

Jaime pulled away from kissing her to throw his head back, mouth a silent oh when she pushed down hard enough that it almost hurt. Cassie took advantage of his weakness to scrape her teeth delicately under his ear and down his neck, feeling him shudder and bite back groans underneath her and it felt so good to hear him lose it and know she was the one doing it. Reaching the place between neck and shoulder, the same place that he had marked, she pulled away to give a postiively evil little grin before biting down.

Jaime's hands shoved her down harder onto him, a shout that could have been yes or fuck or God but Cassie didn't know because fingernails were digging into her back and she was gonna have bruises but-

The opening cords to White started on screen and she ripped herself away from Jaime, falling off the couch and scuttling away. She couldn't look at him, face red and her entire body throbbing – though mostly just one part – and screaming at her that it isn't too late and people have sex all the time and like it. She glanced down at her sweat pants, mortified to see that they'd been soaked through.

Cassie didn't say anything, knowing Jaime would understand, opting instead to watch the movie and slowly inch back towards the couch until she was curled against Jaime in what could have been an absolutely platonic manner if it wasn't for the hickies and soaked underwear and very obvious boner.

Jaime excused himself to take a shower after the movie was finished, and Cassie put her head between her knees, stared at the floor, and wondered what the fuck she was doing wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Schooling takes up a lot more of her time than she thought, so she tries not to dwell on the fact that she may have hurt Jaime's feelings when she decided against sex because she has a twelve page (minimum) essay to write on the importance of Ancient Rome in modern day civilization. And, she reasons with herself, Jaime has to balance his studies plus work let alone sex so there is nothing to feel guilty about. She isn't avoiding the issue she's just... being practical.

And being practical keeps her life sane, and safe and predictable - until Bart Allen is slithering his way through their window on an otherwise unremarkable Saturday afternoon. The dulcet tones of Christina Perri and the last two problems of her pre-calc homework fill her mind, and Cassie doesn't notice what's happening to her window. The lock was popped and a slim body yanked it up just wide enough to wriggle through until he's falling facefirst on the couch, foot stuck in the pane – it's his yelp of surprise and pain that gains her attention.

"Bart what are you-?" Cassie unhooks his foot (though she takes longer than absolutely necessary because he could have just knocked) and lets the question die on her 'd learned the hard way that when it came to Bart, it was better to just not ask questions. She took a moment to collect herself, turning away from where Bart was getting mud on the couch, and when Cassie turned back Bart was frowning. He had his hands on his hips, entire body quivering with indignation.

"Why didn't you tell me you were moving in with Jaime?!"

Cassie groaned, picking up the discarded iPhone and Calculus book before stuffing them away. Another important thing to know when friends with Bart: don't divide your attention around him. He threw her laptop out in the snow when they were in tenth grade because she was skyping Cissie King-Jones and Bart wanted her attention right the fuck then. "It didn't really cross my mind-"

"You could've at least told me you were fucking one of my closest friends! I'm mean really, Cassie, not telling me you were finally getting a piece of..." Bart trailed off when he really looked at Cassie. Looked at the way she was fidgeting and inspecting everything in the room but him, cheeks so red the flush had spread down to her collarbone "OH MY GOD, YOU HAVEN'T HAD SEX YET."

She gestured frantically for him to stay quiet. "Well, we've both been busy with - with schooling. And work. And, um, stuff."

"Bullshit," Bart says disapprovingly, toying with a piece of his hair. Maybe he realized it was bullshit because of the way she said busy with schooling because who said that? Or maybe because she'd sobbed on his shoulder once, drunker than she ever wanted to be again, asking if having sex hurt and telling him how scared she was. Bart had held her, shushed her, told her way too fucking much about how sex had worked for him personally. But mostly he just rocked her back and forth, quietly humming a nameless song.

Cassie opens her mouth to argue, but Bart is continuing his speech with a sudden and almost terrifying determination. "If I have to stuff you two in a closet for a week to get you to fuck, I will."

"Bart, stop being dramatic." and it comes out less a stern admonition than a nervous plea.

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll be back around seven. Tim's bringing pizza."

"What-"

Bart doesn't bother to listen to whatever question had been on the tip of her tongue. She digs her phone out from where she'd protected it from Bart, glancing at the display to check the time.

4:03pm, which meant Jaime would be home in an hour. Bart plus – undoubtedly - twenty other people he claimed to be his friends, however, would be there in three. She surveyed the living room clinically, objectively. Laundry that needed folding was piling up - Jaime kept claiming to do it the next day - and random loose leaf papers and packets and books and binders and the occasional loose sock and – just things. Things everywhere.

She wasn't exactly one to take up domestic tasks unless it involved getting some sort of reward later (her life motto was 'will work for desert) but if Bart was going to bring a bunch of people in her house later, then having to do a little demeaning 'woman's' work was better than people calling Jaime – and her by extension – a slob.

When Jaime comes home exactly when she'd expected him to, stomping snow off his boots. Cassie is vacuuming the living room after stacking the folded laundry onto the couch and after a minute - when she realized he was looking in awe at the cleaned apartment - shut the vacuum off. "Welcome home."

"Is there some sort of pre-Christmas cleaning event that I'm unaware of?" He asked, eyeing the Pine-Sol cleaned kitchen floors. He'd puttered into the kitchen first to grab coffee and was leaning on a door jam, perfectly serene.

"Uh, Bart and a few other people are coming over," She said, beginning to wrap up the cord to the vacuum. "If you could take care of the laundry that'd be great."

"Sure..." He grabs onto the folded towels and takes them to a linen closet to put them away. "How was your day?"

"Fine," She mumbles stiffly, avoiding contact with him. "I got my homework done and Bart came over for a few minutes."

She left out that Bart was there to give her the post-Health Class sex talk.

Jaime grabbed onto the awkward piles of shirts she had made. "He came to tell you he was coming over later? Why didn't he just call?"

"He, uh, had to return my iPod," she lied lamely. And Jaime knew she was lying, because she didn't have a damn iPod she had an iPhone – but he was such a great boyfriend that he let the obvious deceit slide.

Jaime didn't ask another question, and for two hours they cleaned the apartment. When finished, she was fairly certain even her mom couldn't find anything wrong with it. The silence between them was uncomfortable, and it annoyed her because she couldn't think of any good topics and the ones she could think of probably would crush his heart a little.

Thankfully their awkward silence was destroyed the second Bart walked in with five pizza boxes and a large grin. Tim, Zatanna and Artemis followed, less obnoxiously, although Artemis seemed to be hoarding a bottle of peach schnapps and Zatanna had a bottle of vodka and tequila swinging loosely in her hands.

After everyone was passed pizza, Zatanna went to work filling cups halfway with the schnapps and OJ she seemingly magically produced. Cassie tentatively took a sip - the only alcohol she'd consumed was at age thirteen, the dry taste of white grapes flooding her mouth before she coughed it (and half her dinner) up three minutes later. This was infinitely better. The sweetness of the juice exploded on her tongue, the after taste of peaches accompanied by a pleasant warmth that slid down her throat and pooled low in her stomach.

Before she knew it her glass was empty and Zatanna was giving her three parts orange juice, schnapps and tequila. She watched Jaime exchange a doubtful, almost worried, glance with Artemis when she practically chugged it down – chasing that comforting heat, reveling in the way it relaxed her body and liquefied her mind.

After the second glass, the world was starting to get strange on the sharp edges. Everything was softer, and she was mesmorized with Artemis' hair – wanting so badly to play with the long blond strands, trying to come up with reasons not to. Cassie didn't catch the contents of the next glass Zatanna poured for her, too focused on the fuzzy lines of Bart's smile. The drink it was so bitter it made her grimace, but after she swallowed sunshine twisted in her veins.

She sat there, in a sort of trance for an immeasurable amount of time. When she came back to reality, Zatanna and Artemis had arms looped together as they did shots. Tim seemed preoccupied with his pizza and Jaime had switched back to his usual 8oz. of coffee when she felt Bart place pressure on her shoulders.

"It's a full moon tonight." he said, so seriously that she giggled, because his face was funny and he had so many freckles. Maybe she said it out loud, because Bart affected a look of mock indignation.

She noticed the black camcorder in his hands around the time he told her to look, but to save her life couldn't understand the importance of its presence. Cassie strained to look out the window to see the white glow in the darkening sky when she heard Bart open the camcorder.

"I wanna film you. I bet you and Jaime are actually werewolves. And I'm gonna catch you on tape so I know whether you'll eat me or not. Okay?" His words were slurring, joking, but his hands were steady as he fiddled with buttons. Or maybe he was talking normally and her ears were slurring. But she nodded and he slammed down a tripod before he set the camcorder almost delicately onto the stand.

"Hey, Cass, I'm gonna take these guys home before they become a danger to others," Tim said loudly over Zatanna's screeches of laughter. Cassie nodded as Tim linked everyone's hands together and forced them out into the cold amongst protests.

She started laughing at nothing at all, and for the safety of her dvds, couldn't stop. She glanced at Jaime, who was somehow sober enough to read and look at her with a half scared half incredulous half amused expression. The math for that seemed wrong, and she frowned through her giggles but she'd never been that great with fractions anyway.

"Is something funny?" he asked, setting aside the Stephen King book as he looked at her. She snickered again before pushing him against the couch and erupting into a whole new set of demonic chuckles. The half scared look was at least three quarters terrified now.

What Cassie wasn't aware of was that Jaime wasn't terrified because she had apparently been possessed by a clingy drunk. He was terrified that his girlfriend was about to seduce him and then wake up really fucking hungover and pissed.

He didn't want their first time to happen this way, but his body wasn't listening.

Cassie was kissing him, open mouth and tongue and soft angles and heat and oh so good. He broke away, because he may want to strip and fuck her right on that couch but he still had to breathe.

A part of him – a part of him that his dick was screaming at to FUCKING SHUT THE FUCK UP – opened his mouth and tried to reason with his girlfriend. "Cassie-"

But it came out as a moan, gravel in his voice like he hadn't heard since his first blowjob, and something about that Cassie really liked because she whimpered and dug her fingernails into the back of his neck. Her hips rolled over his and he just gave up because she was killing him he was sure of it.

Jaime slid a hand under her shirt to grip at her rib cage so tight that if he was thinking he'd worried he'd bruise her, grasped the sharp line of her hip with the other and kissed her like she was air and he was drowning. Cassie nipped at his lip and then shifted so that she was lined up just so. He pulled away, head flopping back to rest on the couch as he gasped for air, Cassie's teeth scraping along his jaw and behind his ear and God, the things this girl could do with her tongue-

Suddenly it occurred to him that they both needed to be naked, like yesterday, and Cassie must have fucking read his mind because she was leaning back and all but tearing off her t-shirt. She leaned in close over his face, not kissing but just exchanging air.

God, but she was beautiful. Lips red and slick and shining, blue eyes nearly black and hair like she'd just rolled out of bed. He sat there, hips grinding lazily and unconsciously as she panted and helpless whines punched their way out. He never wanted to stop looking at her face, but then he suddenly did cuz oh god but she was pulling his hands to the clasp of her bra.

He'd just started to unhook it when a look all too familiar passed over her face and he'd just managed to slam his eyes and mouth shut before she whispered 'imma be sick'.

And she was.

All the fuck over him, and he wanted to scream, because despite his best efforts some vomit slid past his lips and it'd been a year-and-a-fucking-half.

He cleaned them up, of course. Cleaned them up and put her in bed after forcing a glass of water and some aspirin down her throat, then took a long cold shower because he felt filthy and his dick apparently hadn't realized that it wasn't getting laid.


	3. Chapter 3

Winter Break was a glorious holiday away from classes and homework that meant Cassie could lounge around all day watching reruns of her favorite Doctor Who episodes. Though Jaime still had to work, she got to snuggle with him late into the morning because he didn't have to go to an eight o'clock lecture on campus.

Unfortunately, 2:30 in the morning can be a frustrating time to snuggle when you wake up to an insistent bladder and your snuggling partner fast asleep and pinning you to the mattress. Not exactly the romantic morning snuggles she planned on having later, and Cassie carefully untangled herself from Jaime before plodding down the carpeted hall to relieve herself.

Early January is fucking cold no matter how high you set the thermostat, so she pees quickly, washes and dries her hands and is back in the bed next to Jaime in less than two minutes. She pushed herself against his warm body and closed her eyes, trying to get back to sleep.

Except that's not what happens, when she feels Jaime wrap his arms tightly around her middle. She's expecting him to tuck his head into the back of her neck, but he ends up breathing sharply right into her ear. He lets out a low groan, shifting slightly away from her, hands clenching briefly as he tightens his hold.

She wonders vaguely what was going on before deciding he must be having a nightmare. After making her decision, she wastes no time shaking him into semi-consciousness.

"Cassie?" He mumbled, probably still in dreamland. Was he dreaming about her? She would've found it sweet if it weren't for the fact that it had been a nightmare. Shit, she hoped that it wasn't because she'd made him watch the new Evil Dead – he said he wasn't scared of horror movies, but it was fairly obvious he was lying.

After a second of searching his face for any further signs of distress, she tucks the hair falling into his eyes behind his ears. "Yeah sweetheart, it's me."

He jolts to full consciousness, shock and something that may have been terror flashing across his face. She couldn't help but wonder if he was just glad to see she wasn't in his nightmare, or if the nightmare had her as the bad guys. and she wondered if he was just glad to not see her in his nightmare or whatever when he untangled his left leg from hers and pressed his legs together awkwardly.

And then he untangles his leg from hers and scooches away from her on the bed, face mortified and bright red even in the darkness. He gathers the covers protectively over his crotch and that's when what should have been obvious dawns on Cassie.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't having a nightmare. At least not until his girlfriend woke him up from a wet dream about said girlfriend. She just wasn't sure how to diffuse the awkwardness that had seeped its way into the room because she was one hundred person certain she still wasn't ready to have sex. That was the usual and appropriate response to this situation, right?

Except Jaime was probably slowly dying of sexual frustration and while she'd known that, seeing it so blatantly made her feel somewhat guilty because there was really no reason she shouldn't sleep with him. Just a vague fear that it would hurt and that he would see her with her clothes off and just walk out of the room with a derisive snort.

"I, um, I'm going to go shower," Jaime said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the bathroom. Unable to think of a better suggestion, Cassie nods and tries to pretend that him showering in the middle of the night (that's not all he's gonna be doing, a traitorous voice in the back of her head whisper) is perfectly normal.

She tries to sleep and not think about how absolutely Jaime had changed his life for her, how he'd changed personally since she met him. And Cassie loved him – she did, she just wished-

Cassie sat upright in the bed. There were plenty of other forms of sex besides penetrative- right? She was about to go and knock down the door to tell Jaime but decided against it. Even if they didn't have penetrative sex, one them would have to be naked, and thought of Jaime having to see her naked almost enough to make her vomit. If she did something with him now, he'd want to reciprocate like the perfect boyfriend he was and just-

She could wait a little longer, she decided, closing her eyes.

Cassie was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it. Sometimes he was irrationally – and he knew it was stupid – angry at her for looking so beautiful and being so perfect and totally out of his league. Standing under the spray of hot water, he couldn't decide whether she was trying to kill him through sexual frustration or mortification this time.

Not that she was doing anything wrong – no, just woke him up right before he was about to come and God but that was irritating – she was just being perfect and sweet, waking him up from what she probably thought was a nightmare.

Jaime closed his eyes and tried to will the erection away. Cold water had barely worked last time, and he was sick of freezing to death. This time he just sighed and gave a light but heartfelt punch to the tiled walls.

He allowed his hand to travel down, decided fuck it and pictured Cassie.

Cassie, in that spiderman bra with the lace like webs on it, hands carefully sliding up his legs. Cassie, nervous and determined before holding his hips down firmly and leaning forward. Not touching yet, no, just letting out anxious breaths against the tip and it felt so good but it wasn't nearly enough.

Back in reality Jaime was jerking his hips in helpless little movements forward, fast breaths and whimpers he couldn't quite help. It felt wrong to think of Cassie like this when she didn't want to do anything really sexual with him. No, not just wrong, dirty and wrong and gross.

But it was too late to stop now and he twisted his hand just a little bit on the upward strokes, in his mind seeing Cassie's eyes blown black as he pushes into her, watches her back curve upwards and mouth open in a little o as he begins to thrust.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, his imaginary Cassie chants in between moans and wordless cries. Jaime, Jaime, love you-

Jaime comes with something probably best described as an embarassingly loud noise that he really fucking hopes Cassie didn't hear. As soon as the blissed out white noise of his mind disappates, he slumps to the floor and closes his eyes. It's three quarters disgust at what he'd just done, and one quarter the orgasm.

Back in their bedroom, Cassie is fast asleep dreaming of snowmen and hot chocolate and frozen kisses from chapped lips.


	4. Chapter 4

When Cassie wakes up on Valentine's Day morning it's to the noise of crinkling paper under her face.

Groaning, she removes the sticky not from her face and blearily examines the tidy scrawl. Basically it was just Jaime saying he was going out for a few hours and would be back before nine. She looked at the alarm clock's blocky red numbers. 9:04 a.m. Good, he was home so she could grouch at him until he made her coffee and breakfast.

Kicking off the blankets, Cassie combed her fingers through her hair and grimaced at the tangles. She stumbled into the bathroom, still half asleep, to brush her teeth and try to approach something looking halfway presentable.

Once she's mostly conscious, she pads her way into the living room. She stops in the doorway, jaw dropping just a bit. Delight and surprise shot through her veins, and any remaining sleepiness evaporated into excitement.

Jaime had constructed a massive pillow fort. Couch cushions and rigid pillows held up a roof of thin sheets, the floor underneath covered in soft blankets and her stuffed animals. (Which he was obligated to tease her about, but cuddled just as much if not more.)

The TV was on and halfway through the first Thor movie, and Cassie practically vibrated when she saw the stack of dvds. The x-men movies, the wolverine ones, the iron man movies, the avengers, captain america – there was the makings of a wonderful marathon and Cassie bounced a little on the balls of her feet just thinking about it.

Jaime walked in just about the time she was going slackjawed over Loki, carrying a brown paper bag. She watched him unpack the items, though most of her attention was focused on the screen. She was only human, and Tom Hiddleston was speaking.

This didn't stop her from making a mental list of the items he pulled out - coffee grounds, milk, strawberry ice cream, toothpaste-

"Ice cream? In the middle of winter?" She asked slyly (in her opinion), trying not to make it painfully obvious how she was going to sit here and eat the entire carton of frozen strawberry goodness.

"It's for you," he said because he was the most wonderful person in the history of ever, popping open the lid and sticking a spoon in it before handing it into Cassie's eager hands. She opened her mouth to form a false objection of how she had to share it, and then realized it was utterly ridiculous.

He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before leaving to put the rest of the things away. Cassie turned her attention back to the movie, smiling quietly.

Jaime returned to the room carrying something wrapped in black crepe paper. Cassie winced away from a pang of guilt. She'd started wrapping Stephen King's latest novel but gave up when she realized she couldn't wrap worth shit.

He settled next to her, pulling a blanket over his legs and snaking an arm around her shoulders. Cassie opened the gift, grinning down at the pajamas. The tanktop had 'Zombie Killer', complete with blood spatters, printed across the chest. The pants were less subtle, covered in undead who more likely than not were missing limbs (or heads).

"Oh my god, I love it so much!" Cassie took the exclamation as an excuse to hug Jaime. Words could not describe how happy she was – ice cream, a pillow fort, her favorite movies, violently themed pajamas...

He awkwardly patted her back and she slowly moved off from him and situated herself back into a comfortable position to watch the movie. Scenes passed and they relaxed back into a position that could nearly be referred to as snuggling.

Cassie heard Jaime take a deep breath and suddenly he was nudging her head to look down at his hands. They were holding a tiny box, the kind that you got when you bought a fancy necklace. She frowned down, already opening her mouth to berate Jaime over spending money on jewelry when she didn't need more gifts and they'd nearly had to cut netflix-

Then Jaime opened the box, and all she could do was gape down because she'd found the most perfect person alive to date.

The ring was, at first glance, just beautiful. On closer inspection (which she quickly gave) it was created from delicate spirals of metal, a spiderweb pattern surrounding the diamond. Cassie couldn't move, could hardly breathe, overwhelmed by just – everything. How lucky she was, how incredible Jaime was, how much her mom was going to freak-

"I- uh, Cassie?" Jaime's voice was so nervous it cracked, and she laughed, because how could he be nervous? She pulled away from the warmth of his arms and the blankets so she could place herself firmly in his lap, smiling into his lips.

"Yes." she mumbled, joy bubbling in her chest and out of her throat. "Yes!"

He gently pushed her back far enough that she could see him grinning, and she offered up her hand. Jaime slipped the ring on, and she said yes until the word lost its meaning and became a jumble of letters in the air. It was ridiculous that he thought he even needed to ask, when she loved him so much it hurt a little.

He kissed her again, her 'yes's answered with 'thank you's and she scraped her fingernails up under his shirt and over the skin of his back and the little gasp he made was what decided it.

There was no reason to be scared. He wasn't going to leave her, she wasn't going to be another in a long string of one night stands. Jaime – sweet and kind and gentle – wouldn't intentionally hurt her and would do his damndest to make it amazing. If it did hurt, he would let her back out and not say anything, just kiss her and apologize and check her over with fluttery hands.

That decided, she wasn't quite ready to shout 'YES I'LL HAVE SEX WITH YOU' or just strip down. So she took a deep breath, and scooted up from where she had been seated on his thighs to his crotch.

His eyes dilated and another one of those beautiful gasps left his lips. "You-"

"Yes." Cassie said, and that was that.

Time passed in a blur of tongue and teeth and bare skin. Before her brain caught up with the proceedings, she was flat on her back, gasping and only in her panties. Jaime was trailing fingers feather light down her ribs, and the way her back arched from just that touch was excruciatingly embarrassing.

He paused when he reached the top of her underwear, thumbs rubbing what was probably meant to be soothing circles into her hipbones.

"Are you sure?"

"If you fucking ask me if I'm sure one more time-"

Then the layer of cloth was gone, and she was exposed, flinching away from the sudden rush of cold air.

She felt Jaime's warm breath against the inside of her thighs, making her squirm and bite down on her lip in anticipation. After a painstaking moment, he flicked his tongue out and into her and she will deny to her dying day the noise that came out of her.

Blood pounded harder and faster in her ears as he grew more adventurous, exploring, holding her down when her hips twitched. Everything suddenly seemed like a bad idea, and she wanted to back out- she was making these noises like a dying animal, he had to be just doing it out of pity now. Her hands had somehow wound up tangled in his hair, and she had to drop them if she didn't want to rip his hair out when he pressed a flattened tongue against her clit. He very slowly pressed his index finger into her, the knuckles providing an interesting sensation. She couldn't decide if everything felt euphoric or just mortifying. If anything it seemed surreal.

"Jaime," She whispered. And the pornstar tone in her voice, God, she was never going to live that down. She was sure her face was flaming red in embarassment, while her hips fought against his hold to snap upwards. He occupied her against by rolling her clit between his tongue and upper front teeth, finger sliding the rest of the way into her. Her hands gripped the floor underneath her while heat pooled into her stomach.

Butterflies exploded in her chest, and she wanted to tell him to stop because she was definitely in danger of having a stroke. Jaime gently prodded a second finger into her and she wanted to shout. Everything was hot, too hot. His index finger curled at the same time he lightly bit down and her back arched against the touch, her breath coming out in uneven, helpless pants.

The third finger was less pleasant, but words quickly became incomprehensible when he pressed his tongue- now erected and pointed- against the underside of her clit and generously licking until the top and then giving it a tiny kiss and repeating the process over. She was sure from that alone was finally what made her hips quiver and the world go numb as he held her steady, his touch grounding her, the only thing that kept her from falling into a million pieces and melting.

Cassie thought he pulled away, but she couldn't be sure, the entire world a blur of colors and shapes, body loose and pliable. Her hearing was narrowed down to the drum of her heartbeat and the whoosh of air from her lungs. She never wanted to move, had a vague feeling of kill me now before life comes back and ruins this.

Jaime was making noises that certainly weren't whimpers, thank you very much, but that weren't very dignified either. He nudged Cassie's face so her glazed over eyes were staring straight at him, face lax with bliss.

"Cassie – can I- Cas-" The words failed into little choked gasps as Cassie nodded, wrapping legs around his hips in an effort to bring him closerclosercloser.

Then he was pushing in, slowly, so slowly, and Cassie was making these strangled noises, raking her fingernails down his back when he asked if she wanted him to stop.

Then he was in, and it was hot and wet and tight, and maybe it was the year and a half of celibacy or maybe it was just Cassie, but he had to take slow breaths because it was like his first time all over again. Her hips were jerking insistently under his, and he held her down and still because so not helping.

When he was fairly certain he wouldn't come the second he moved, he pulled back – slowly slowly oh God – and then slammed back in. Cassie's back arched, mouth open in a silent scream as her body tensed.

The world devolved to wet and tight and heat and Cassie. Sweat covered limbs slid off each other, gasps and moans and half muffled screams filled his senses. Cassie wasn't that much better, struggling to keep her eyes open because she wanted to see him, wanted to commit Jaime's face to memory. Her entire body was shrieking, nerve endings oversensitized from her first orgasm to the point where she wasn't quite sure if it was fantastic or agony.

Then it didn't matter, because Jaime's eyes were closing, his teeth bared over hissed breaths. He was close, and Cassie clenched because she wasn't sure how much more she could take before she just melted into a puddle of endorphins and died.

Jaime's eyes snapped open, driving into her fast and hard a few more times until his entire body stiffened and a noise that couldn't have been entirely human ripped through him.

He collapsed on top of her, mumbling an apology that Cassie brushed off. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but you couldn't have convinced her to be anywhere else right now. Sticky, hot, starting to itch – it didn't matter.

Because this was Jaime. This was Jaime who always woke up and immediately glared at the nearest light source, Jaime who smelled like coffee and always remembered what kind of tampons she needed. Jaime who brought her chocolate and tylenol during her periods, Jaime who tickled her until the neighbors came to investigate. Jaime who ranted whenever he didn't agree with his book, Jaime who didn't really like superheroes but endured her fangirling over them anyways.

Jaime, who Cassie was in love with.

Jaime, who Cassie was going to spend the rest of her life with.

Jaime, who was definitely putting the ice cream away as soon as he could move, because if it melted she would kill him.


End file.
